


Lunch Break

by Sodalitefully



Series: Guns N Roses AUs :) [1]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Sex, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodalitefully/pseuds/Sodalitefully
Summary: "Oh? What do they call you? Mr. McKagan’s pretty boytoy? That one secretary on the sixth floor with a great ass?”(Older businessman Duff aka Mr. McKagan and his hot young secretary Saul)





	Lunch Break

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly revised version of a fic I originally posted on tumblr (sodalitefully.tumblr.com, check out my blog for more gnr aus and other stuff!). Inspired by some fanart by @ollysid-oops! I hope it’s not too confusing that I switch between Duff and Mr. McKagan. When I’m writing more from his point of view, he thinks of himself as Duff but Slash thinks of him as Mr. McKagan (because he kinda gets off on the fucking-his-boss dynamic).

The heavy door swung open with a heave, breaking the soundproof seal of Mr. McKagan’s office. Saul Hudson, Mr. McKagan’s secretary, gathered up a stack of binders as he got to his feet, then waited by the doorway for his boss’s 12 o’clock appointment to leave – the head of marketing had already overstayed his welcome, though Mr. McKagan must have been too kind to say so himself. Saul would have to schedule a narrower time slot next time.

“– Just let my assistant know if you have any questions about those files. I’ll see you next week, Michael – or hey, maybe I’ll see you at the company dinner this Friday? You can’t keep sitting these events out, Mike, or the bosses will start to think you don’t want to be here!” With a grating chuckle, the man finally bid Mr. McKagan goodbye, unsubtly taking a second to check Saul out on his way to the elevators.

Saul peered into the office to find Mr. McKagan staring after the obnoxious marketing yuppie with a perturbed expression and a fan of documents in his hand.

“Will you be taking your lunch break now?” Saul asked. Mr. McKagan nodded, so Saul shut and locked the door behind him, then strode across the room, tossed his armful of props aside, and perched himself on the edge of his boss’s huge wooden desk, waiting for him to turn his attention away from the stack of files that had been dropped off for his review. With a sigh, Mr. McKagan dropped his handful of papers and leaned back in his leather office chair.

“Do me a favor, Mr. Hudson, and never call me Michael.”

Saul hopped off the desk and slid into Mr. McKagan’s lap, hooking his knees over the armrest and draping his arms around his boss’s neck. Their affair had been going on long enough (since Saul’s first week on the job, a few months ago – all things considered, the fact that they lasted almost a week was a display of incredible self-control on both their parts, since Duff had been smitten since he saw the photo on Saul’s application, and Saul turned down a more lucrative position with another company right after meeting Mr. McKagan, before he’d even been officially hired) that boldly lounging on his boss’s lap was far from out of the ordinary, but Saul still affected an innocent expression as he replied:

“Whatever you say, Mr. McKagan.”

“I didn’t mean it like that…” he looked down at Saul a little sheepishly. "Even as a kid no one called me Michael. It was always ‘Duff’ – hell if I know why,” he laughed. “I used to get so pissed off when people would tell me my name didn’t sound professional enough. I don’t know, I guess I shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“No, I understand... No one calls me Saul outside of work,” Saul confessed.

“Oh? What do they call you?” Mr. McKagan wrapped his arms around Saul, closing the space between their bodies. "…Mr. McKagan’s pretty boytoy?” He trailed kisses up Saul’s arm and neck. "That one secretary on the sixth floor with a great ass?”

“Funny, I usually hear those at work… They’re not wrong though, I do have a great ass.” To prove his point, Saul rolled his hips, grinding his ass into Mr. McKagan’s lap. It was obvious that the older man was already half-hard, and Saul allowed himself to feel a little smug that just holding him was enough to get his boss excited.

The friction made Mr. McKagan groan, though the sound was muffled as he continued to plant kisses ever closer to Saul’s lips. One of his hands slid downwards to grope at Saul’s ass, and with the other he unzipped Saul’s too-tight slacks and eased out his equally excited cock. Their lips finally locked together just as Mr. McKagan began to drag his palm up and down Saul’s length. He alternated between long, slow strokes up his shaft and teasingly toying at Saul’s head until precome began to dribble out which Mr. McKagan used to slick his hand, stroking faster while Saul’s tongue invaded his mouth with heated enthusiasm. Saul moaned without restraint against the older man’s lips; months of experimentation had taught them exactly how loud they could be without risking discovery (quite loud, as it turns out: the soundproofing, though intended for private meetings and not escapades, served them very well).

It didn't take long for Mr. McKagan to decide he was done waiting. He stood up, lifting Saul from his lap and bending him over the desk so his chest was pressed flat against the mess of paperwork, sticky notes and paperclips getting swept up in his hair. Saul managed to wiggle his slacks down to his knees without displacing the long fingers that rested on his back, stroking absently at the thin, sweat-damp cotton of his half-unbuttoned dress shirt. Mr. McKagan dug a bottle of lube out of a messy desk drawer, unzipped his pants (neither of them bothered to wear underwear to work anymore) and slicked his cock. When he trailed his fingers down the cleft of Saul’s ass, he found that his secretary was already wet, loose and ready for him.

The mental image of Saul fucking himself open in the restroom during his meeting sent a shudder of arousal through Mr. McKagan's whole body, intense enough to elicit a deep moan. He slipped two fingers in and scissored them, just in case, then lined up his cock against Saul’s hole and slowly thrust inside, letting Saul feel every inch of his length as he stretched him open.

Duff may have been the more experienced of the two, but, God, every time he fucked Saul it felt like the first time all over again. He was tight, and hot, and he squirmed on Duff’s cock making breathy little desperate sounds that never failed to drive Duff absolutely crazy.

“Mr. McKagan, please,” Saul moaned, and how was Duff supposed to deny him anything when he sounded as sweet as that?

Duff was a considerate lover, but not a patient one: His left hand pinned Saul’s shoulder to the desk, and his right groped at Saul’s thigh, lifting his leg just enough to keep him off balance as the older man fucked him at an unfaltering pace.

Duff wasn’t going to last long, not when he’d been fantasizing about Saul all day, starting when he was sitting in traffic on the way to work that morning and continuing right through his last meeting. He leaned forward, balancing on his forearm in order to suck a hickey onto Saul’s shoulder – there was just something about his young secretary that made Duff feel like a teenager again. His thrusts became more erratic as he neared his climax, but he didn’t slow down. One each deep thrust, Saul’s ass quivered from the impact of Duff’s hips against his, and his gasps and cries intermingled with Duff’s low moans.

Duff came hard, spilling deep inside of Saul. Overwhelmed by pleasure, he stayed bent over Saul, unmoving except for the heave of his chest as he tried to wrest control of his breath. He cried out when Saul started to squirm impatiently on Duff’s oversensitive cock, whining, begging Duff wordlessly for his release.

Duff pulled out and flipped Saul over so that the secretary was on his feet again, braced against the edge of the desk behind him. Duff sunk to his knees and took Saul’s dripping cock into his mouth, first lavishing his head with his tongue, then slowly inching down to take as much of Saul’s length into his throat as possible.

Duff wasn’t a natural cocksucker like Saul was, he couldn’t get more than two-thirds of his secretary's not-unimpressive endowment into his mouth before he started to gag. But he knew how to make up for it: with one hand, he groped at Saul’s perfect ass, with the other, he sunk three long fingers back into Saul’s hole, and began to stroke at his prostate relentlessly. Duff’s cum was still hot as it started to drip down his hand and onto Saul’s bare thighs.

Duff let Saul fuck his mouth, just shallow little thrusts, enough to make him gag but not enough to choke. Even as his eyes watered, Duff forced himself to look up at Saul’s face when it was clear the younger man was close. Duff loved that look on him: his eyes were squeezed shut, his brows were furrowed, his curls clung to the sweat that glistened on his forehead and flushed cheeks, and his lips formed a perfect ‘o’, still swollen from Duff’s kisses.

Duff picked up the pace with his fingers and that was enough to push Saul over the edge: his knees buckled as he came with a scream, shooting his release down Duff’s throat and then crumpling limply into Duff’s waiting arms.

He scooped Saul up, cradling him close against his chest as he pulled them back up to the seat of the the desk chair. They rested in silence for a while, Saul curled up in Duff’s lap with his face pressed against his sweat-damp linen shirt as Duff lightly stroked his curls.

“Saul, you’re the only reason this job is bearable, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Duff whispered over Saul’s head, his voice still hoarse from Saul’s cock. Saul didn’t respond, only wrapped his arms tighter around Duff’s chest, but the gesture spoke volumes, conveying more sincerity and affection than he could ever communicate with words. With a contented sigh, Duff leaned down to bury his head in Saul’s hair.

A moment later, he lifted his head again, realizing something.

“Hey… you never told me what people call you outside of work!”


End file.
